Torn
by Southernburn
Summary: LnL3...Lulu and Logan start to take their relationship to a new level, but can Lulu let go of the past? Please review and comment!
1. Chapter 1

Title: Torn

Author: SouthernBurn

Rating: The overall fic will be M

Disclaimer: All General Hospital characters are copyrighted, and are used without permission. This story is a figment of my own imagination.

This is my first General Hospital fanfic so...be gentle...not all parts of the character's personalities are true to form.

Chapter 1

I close my eyes and fight back the panic as his fingertips brush up my bare arms. I'm not exactly afraid of him but I am scared of what the next inevitable step is in our relationship. Our daytime existence is a complete one eighty from these quiet nighttime moments. During the day he infuriates and challenges me, and it boggles my mind how he can be two completely different people at the same time.

His cocky declarations and inflated male ego completely turn me off, but in a weird way it's that same arrogant attitude that draws me to him. When we are alone, like this, he surprises me with a gentleness that blows me away. Confirming my belief that under that hard shell he really is a decent guy, maybe even someone I could even fall in love with.

I never expected the war torn hero to have so much patience with me, in every other aspect of his life he is a hot head; but he seems to understand that I need take this intimate part of our relationship at my own pace. He hasn't asked for more than I am willing to give him, even when that has only been allowing him to hold me all night long.

I still dream about last summer and all the hard decisions I had to make, even last night I was haunted by a child swinging on a swing set. The quirky toe-headed girl focused on swinging as high as she could, her long braids trailed behind her. When she saw me, she smiled and waved calling out for 'Mommy' as she glided back; and then just as quickly she faded out of focus until she was gone and the swing clamored and jiggled to a stop.

Swallowing hard I gaze out the darkened window to the lamp lit pier below; his arms slip around my waist. His fingers link across my abdomen where a child by another man once grew inside me and I repeat the silent mantra to myself that I made the right decision and I'm going to be okay.

He pulls me against him, pressing a kiss into my hair and then rests his head against mine. "It's late, what are you looking at?" he whispers.

Two months ago, if he would have touched me like this I would have pulled free and pushed him away; but now I let out the breath that I was holding and relax enough to answer. "At the barge that just docked, I'm surprised you didn't have to work tonight."

"Sonny is keeping a low profile until Jason's trial is over. Leaving my night free, are you going to stay here?"

My head tilts up and our gazes meet, "I was thinking about it."

"Good" he murmurs as he lowers his lips to mine.

Turning around in his arms I let him kiss me. His face is slightly scruffy but his lips are as soft as silk, he tips my chin up higher with his hand and I tentatively part my lips for him. Our tongues dance a slow tango with each other until my arms finally wrap around his neck and he lifts me off the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The butterflies dance in my stomach as he carries me through the small living room to his bedroom. I know that I shouldn't be so nervous since this isn't the first time that he has whisked me away in the safety of his arms, but anticipation of what I really want tonight is getting the better of me.

Without a word he flips the light switch off with his elbow, sinking the living room into darkness and pushes his bedroom door open with his hip. It swings open and makes a soft thump when it hits the wall, and he carries me across the threshold.

His room is cast in shadows by the moonlight that filters in from the skylight above, highlighting the perfectly made bed in the center of the room. I shift in his arms and unclasp my hands from his neck, letting one slide down to his cheek. Slowly I turn his face from the shadows where he prefers to lurk into the light and looking into his eyes lose myself in the intensity they possess. I bring my face to his and tentatively brush my lips over his in a whisper of a kiss.

I feel the warm ache that I have been fighting for months surge past the fear as he settles me on the bed and moves his lips against mine. The desire and anticipation of him touching me makes me feel so alive again. I think he knows that by my willingness to surrender that I want to be with him tonight. 

I try to relax and enjoy the way he makes me burn inside, but as he unfastens the first button of my shirt the panic starts to creep back in. He pauses and looks into my eyes and I know he sees my hesitation. Letting the fabric go he brushes his fingertips along my cheek. Dipping his head to nuzzle my neck he murmurs, "Just say the word Lulu and I'll stop, I promise."

The familiar war echoes in my head, between the sexual want I have for him and the fear that I will end up the same way as last time, alone and pregnant. I haven't been with anyone else since that one and only time, and even though I trust Logan I'm not sure if I am ready for this.

But as his lips finds the hollow of my neck and his tongue cleverly circles my exposed collarbone, only a tiny high pitched gasp escapes from my lips and my hesitation fades. My fingers travel up the nape of his neck and I close my eyes while his mouth seduces my senses, only then do I feel the cool night air dance across my bare stomach as the last shirt button flicks open.

My eyes spring open wide as his cool calloused hand scorches my skin, and he kisses me again before I can protest. His mouth teases and seduces me until I pull away simply to breath.

He smirks at me and rolls on his side facing me with his head propped up on an elbow. I watch him with clouded eyes as his fingertips dance up my rib cage and skim over my lacy bra.

He surprises me because I never would have guessed that the aggressive, intense man that I know could be capable of this type of tenderness. I had expected him to be hard and fast and demanding, but he's not and I will be forever grateful.

With my decision made I sit up on the bed and let me shirt tumble from my shoulders and discard it on the floor. He watches me as I sit there and slowly lean over him until my lips are only a breath away. Looking into the depths of his eyes I find my own reflection and let the protective walls crumble, I whisper, "Make love to me."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I clutch and nervously fumble with his shirt trying to wrestle it off of him before I can change my mind, but he captures my hands with his to stop the frantic pace and soothes me.

"Lulu slow down." He murmurs. Bringing my fingertips to his mouth, he presses kisses to each one. "We have all night."

Pulling my hands away I shift back on my knees while he sits up smiling at me; with one smooth motion he pulls the t-shirt over his head and tosses it on the floor. "Is that better?"

Nervously I chew on the corner of my lip while I appreciate the man before me, tanned and marked by life. Through the dim light his tattoos are evident, even the scar from when he was shot seems to glow. I reach out lightly tracing it and swallow hard wondering how many more mark his soul.

He has his eyes closed as my fingertips inquisitively travel over his bare chest and moments pass until he looks at me again. When he opens them they are grayer in the moonlight, almost haunting and his gaze makes me feel uncomfortablely naked before him.

Leaning towards me with one hand bracing himself he cups the back of my neck and pulls my mouth to his, then his lips travel to the hollow of my neck.

Burying his face against me he nips and then soothes the sensitive skin with his mouth, with a practiced ease he unhooks the front clasp of my bra and noses the straps over my shoulder until I am bare before him.

His lips leave hot searing trails down my body, and he cups my breast in his hand while he tongues and flicks the erect nipple. His five o'clock shadow tickles my sensitive skin, and I feel the shivers all the way down to my toes.

How could I have known it would be like this? That this man could make me dream and want, that his touch could make me feel like a cherished woman. He is so full of surprises.

Pressing me back onto the pillows, he kneels before me and when his fingers graze my stomach, I tremble beneath his touch. He unsnaps and unzips my jeans, tracing the outline of my panties with his fingertips until I lift up to help him. His hands slip to my hips and in one motion he hooks my jeans and my panties with his thumbs and shimmies them off me.

Now I am naked before him, quivering in anticipation of his touch in the pale moonlight.

At first he panics me when he lifts one of my legs off the bed to his shoulder, but he turns his head and swirls his tongue around the inside of my ankle bone, I simply melt beneath his touch. The heat of his mouth stokes the fire that has started to rage within me, any fears that I had have been smothered by my desire.

His mouth travels up the inside of my calf to my knee, and I feel myself tremble as he rubs his nose a few more inches up my thigh, nudging them apart. His tongue dances and twists around the back of my knee, while his hand creeps higher up my thigh.

Teasing and tempting me, I feel his eyes burn in appreciation as my back arches and my legs spread further in the desperate way that I had only read about in romance novels.

How does he know all the spots to touch, the places to kiss, the speed and rhythm to use? I feel the tension build from my toes to the tips of my fingers, one sweeping wave after another. As the waves crash upon the shore, the landscape of our relationship changes forever.

His fingers delve into the warm nectar, my body tries to push against him, but his hand glides up and rests on my stomach attempting to hold me still as his tongue flicks over me. I clutch the comforter in my fist and feel the sparks ignite inside me as indescribable sounds escape my lips. Trapped in the darkness I follow the path the fire within me has lit.

Every muscle contracts, my breath catches and a blinding light flashes in the darkness as I reach out to grab him. I clutch at the blindness, unable to see only able to feel. Whimpers and gasps escape my lips as I search for him. I feel his hands grip the back of my thighs as he hooks me by the knees.

I hear the crinkle of a wrapper then feel the tickle of his hardness at my entrance and I wrap my legs around his back pulling him into me. He collapses against me and I wrap my arms around him. His hot jagged breaths against my neck, I crave the fluid way he slips in and out of me. My nails claw at his back as he increases his rhythm from the slow torturous pulse to dominating thrusts.

The room is spinning, my pulse racing, sensations of cool fingers running up my overheated body sending tingles through all my nerve endings. His lips brush my neck, my back arches up to follow him trying not to break the contact. My fingers rake up his back, slick now with sweat. My legs wrap around his back pulling him closer and deeper into me. I walk the ridge between reality and orgasm until finally a strangled cry escapes.

How could I have known the first time with him would be like this, slow and torturous then fever paced and lust filled? That the hidden and denied emotions that we have built for months would explode in seconds, altering all that we had known. No matter what happens in the next few minutes, when time restarts, our relationship has turned into a quivering mass of new life.  
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	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

He rolls to my left pulling me up against him so that my head rests on his chest; while strands of my hair fall and stick to our damp skin. Beneath my cheek I can feel the elevated beat of his heart, and the heavy rise and fall of his breaths that match mine.

My mind is still hazy with satiation and my limbs are weak from released tension, never have I felt so loose and languid. I didn't even know it was possible to feel this free. After a few minutes he presses his lips to the top of my head and carefully slips out of the bed, heading towards the bathroom.

While he is gone, I stare up at the skylight only now realizing that it has been raining. I clutch the damp sheet to my chest trying to stay in this moment and block out the possible repercussions of what's happened, knowing that we have crossed a line we can not go back over.

I close my eyes and still tingle from his touch, and his scent lingers on my skin. Every breath I take pulls me back to the moment he slipped inside of me and that memory stokes the low burning fire that still remains within.

Logan reappears in the doorway, drinking something from a glass and I envy the way he is so comfortable in his nakedness. His lean muscles glide beneath tanned taut skin and I wonder if my nails left a path across his shoulder blades. He crawls back into bed and offers it to me, but I just shake my head and he places it on the nightstand. Gathering me into his arms he settles against the headboard, and murmurs into my hair, "Are you okay?"

I nod against him, not sure if I can form the right words. Tilting my chin up towards him with his fingers he presses his lips against mine. "Are you sure? Did I hurt you?"

His face is cast in shadow but his voice is tinged with concern.

"No, you didn't hurt me." And I continue to kiss him, to savor the feel of his wet lips against mine. The uneasiness starts to creep back in as I am here before him, physically and emotionally naked, with no barriers between us.

I lay here in silence, tangled in his sheets, lost in a love that I' m trying to fight and listening to the dripping sounds of rain on the fire escape. His fingers slowly and softly stroking my bare back, while my mind tries not to predict what will happen next, until I finally drift off to sleep in his arms.

My eyes slowly open and struggle against the sunlight that streams into the room. As everything comes into focus I see that I am alone and the apartment is quiet. I stretch like a cat and realize that most of my muscles are tender and sore, who knew that sex could be such a workout.

I snatch the t-shirt that I struggled with taking off Logan last night and pull it over my head. It hit me at mid thigh so I didn't bother with anything else. The living room was empty as I had expected and there was no sign of him or where he could have gone.

I wrap my arms around myself and check the clock in the kitchen, seeing that it is nine AM I frantically search for my handbag. Locating it on the coffee table, I rout around for the little pack of pills that could have saved me so much pain last summer. Even though I had, until last night sworn off sex; I made the decision to do everything possible to prevent it from happening again. I don't think I am worthy of being a mother after what I did.

I rummage through Logan's cabinets searching for a glass while my mind wonders where he could possibly be, maybe Sonny called him or maybe he went out to get breakfast or maybe he just didn't want to wake up next me.

A twinge of uneasy creeps in, maybe he got what he wanted after all and I'm just supposed to get dressed and leave. What if this is about that stupid bet he had with Maxie; and if it is…is he claiming his prize?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The only food I find in the kitchen that is not of the frozen variety; is a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, a container of salsa and a bag of tortilla chips. I smile at the salsa and remember our first date at Vista Pointe and decide that I am officially disappointed in him.

How could he have had played me like this, he swore that this wasn't all about getting me into his bed. I shake my head realizing that maybe I am jumping to conclusions; maybe I'm just making something out of nothing. I search for his toaster in the empty kitchen cabinets; after all he could be out getting breakfast, right?

Two slices of slightly burnt toast later and there is still no Logan. I only have an hour before my shift starts and I need a hot shower to wash off his scent that lingers on all that places where his body touched mine. The scent of him clings to me and the memory of him is haunting.

His bedroom's stuffy and still smells of sleep and sex as my gaze lingers on his bed with the tangled sheets that had covered us. Pulling up my jeans I collect the rest of my clothes, electing to keep his t-shirt instead of the wrinkled shirt I had worn yesterday. I can't wait for him any longer and I stuff the flimsy fabric into my oversized handbag.

Making sure that the door is locked I pull it shut behind me, leaving no trace of myself behind and hustle down the dimly lit staircase. I push open the building door and squint at the sunlight, but before one foot even hits the sidewalk, I see him running towards me at full speed.

In one swift movement he pushes me back inside and I almost land on my ass. He turns away as the steel door slams shut and my temper flares until I hear shots ring out. I scramble to my feet when I realize that Logan isn't with me, but on the other side of the door; the side where the bullets are flying. I hear return shots and creep further up the staircase clutching my handbag to my chest.

I hold my breath while I wait for the sound of keys and the lock to turn, but there is nothing and now it's too quiet outside. My mind races with speculation, but returns to the same question, 'Oh god, what if he's hurt?' 

My heart is pounding in my throat as I stand to the side and push the door open only a crack. I expect bullets to riddle the door, but there is only silence and that scares me more then anything, oh god Logan.

Pushing the door open further I peer out to find Logan standing over a guy lying on the sidewalk, his gun is aimed at the guys chest. He slowly walks over to him and kicks away the dead man's gun, searching the street for the other shooter.

My relief that he is alive clouds my judgment and I step outside. His military sweep of the area picks up my movement and he spins towards me; his gun now aimed at my chest. He yells at me to get back inside as more shots are fired, but the door automatically locked behind me.

I scream as he dives towards me, knocking me down. It all seems to be in slow motion, even the thwack as the back of my head hit the sidewalk. I feel him roll against me; blocking my body as four more shots rip from his gun and I fade into the darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

I don't know where I am or how long I have been here. I can't see anything or even wiggle my fingers, I just feel like I'm hovering in space. I can only remember being wrapped up in this consuming darkness, a thick blanket so heavy and stifling that once I open my eyes I may be afraid to ever shut them again.

Voices fade in and out of this place. Some of them seem familiar and worried, but the snippets of sounds I can grasp aren't strong enough to pull me out of whereever I am.

My hand moves of its own volition, and the lack of control is frightening. The whispering of a prayer floats through my mind as a familiar heat radiates from the tips of my fingers to my heart. I know it's him, but I can't fight the darkness long enough to latch on. I feel trapped on a ledge just beyond his reach, a hostage from the light.

_Where in the hell am I?_

People are talking again. This time more words are trapped in my thoughts; it's a man's voice, but it's not Logan. The words are interrupted by my mind's decision to fade in and out, but I make out, "…lawyer…Diane…bail."

I struggle to piece together the missing words that my brain skipped or my ears missed. It sounds like Sonny. I feel the dull throb at the back of my head; it is too hard to think, and I give up.

I drift aimlessly through the memories of my mind, trying to organize my thoughts, until I hear the single word that brings it all back: "Shootout."

The pictures and sounds of the scene quickly come into focus; the click of the door locking behind me, the whiz of bullets past my head, the sound of Logan's voice yelling, and then the sirens, lots of sirens.

I must be at General Hospital, but what happened? Was I shot?

Logan is speaking again, but I still can't make out all the words: "…not leaving...Lul…Be….touch." There are footsteps, and then there is silence and I only feel his presence in the room.

I feel something warm and soft brush against my knuckles. It sends a shivering sensation throughout my whole body. I focus on the energy he gives me and manage a weak squeeze of his hand.

His grip tightens and I feel his presence looming over me. Something tickles my forehead and trails down my cheek. His voice pleads, "Lulu, can you hear me? Come on, baby, open those beautiful eyes."

I hold on to the sound of his voice and focus on his touch, but all I can manage to do is crack open my eyes and give him a soft, "Mmm."

I blink hard a few times and try to focus on his face. His eyes glitter with wetness, and his jaw is set with concern; he looks tired and disheveled. He strokes my bangs back, presses a kiss to my forehead, and murmurs, "Thank god."

I close my eyes against the harsh light of the hospital room and try to swallow, but my mouth is dry and my tongue is thick. He tells me to drink as he presses a straw against my lips. The water is cool, but my head is throbbing, and I whisper that I'm tired. He tells me to rest while he goes to tell the nurse I'm awake, but I clutch his hand and ask him not to leave as I slip back into the darkness.

My eyes open easier this time around, and I see Logan asleep in the chair next to me, one hand still holding mine while he uses my thigh as a pillow. I shift a little, and he opens his eyes. "That can't be comfortable," I whisper.

He slowly straightens and moans, releasing my hand to rub his face. "I wasn't leaving you, not after you asked me to stay."

The door opens, and Monica enters my room. One hand is in her jacket pocket while the other clutches a chart. "I heard you were waking up. You gave us quite a scare, Lulu."

"Sorry," I murmur. How long had I been out?

I catch the glare she is shooting Logan as she continues, "You have nothing to be sorry about. You just rest so that we can get you home." She flashes a pen light into my eyes, and I try to turn away from the light. "You have a concussion and few bruised ribs, but you'll be as good as new in no time."

I shift slightly and gasp as it even hurts to breath. Who in the hell is she kidding?

She pats my hand. "I'll be back later to check on you." Before she leaves, she turns back. "Oh, and Lulu, Scott needs to talk to you about what happened; I'll let him know you're awake."

We are alone, and I try to keep my eyes open, afraid that the darkness will suck me back in before I can get answers. "How long have I been out?"

"Two long days," he whispers, bringing my hand to his lips again.

"What happened? It's still a little blurry," I ask.

He looks concerned, but continues, "Do you want the Reader's Digest version?"

I nod and wet my lips. "Yeah, I don't think I can handle much more than that."

He chuckles at me and smiles as he leans back in his chair. "I had a meeting with Sonny that morning, and I had to make a delivery for him afterwards. On the way to drop the package off, I decided to stop by the apartment and check on you. I didn't realize I had a tail, I guess I was a little distracted by the thought of you still naked in my bed." He pauses and I look up realizing he must have been watching me nervously twist the sheet with my fingers when he brought up that night.

His face looks worried as if he is searching for some sign of regret and I reach out my hand to him, interlocking our fingers and squeeze them in reassurance.

He curiously watches the way our fingers tangle as he remembers and continues, "Anyway, they started shooting, and you stepped out of the apartment at the wrong time. I tackled you so you wouldn't get hurt, but you cracked your head on the sidewalk."

I wince when I try to lift my head off the pillow. "Yeah, I remember that part. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but you were so still and wouldn't wake up, so I called the ambulance; I was worried that something was seriously wrong. The cops came, found one gunmen dead on the sidewalk; the other one is still missing. Lulu, I never wanted this part of my life to touch you."

"I know, but what does this have to do with Scott?"

"Baldwin had Mac arrest me, and he has pressed murder charges." He pauses. "Diane got me released on bail, and I've been here ever since."

I try to sit up, but he gently pushes me back on the pillows as I try to argue, "But it was self-defense. I'll tell Scott that and he'll have to drop the charges."

"It's not that simple, Lulu. Diane is trying to get the charges dropped, but Baldwin is on the warpath. There is nothing he would like better than to keep me away from you by putting my ass in jail. Diane's afraid that if she can't get the charges dropped, you'll have to testify. Lulu, you saw me shoot that guy."

"But it was…I'll deny it."

"Lulu, you aren't a very good liar, and you know he'll twist anything you say, between my past and my dishonorable discharge from the army. He'll try to prove that I'm a threat to the general public. He'll do anything to keep me away from you."

I really don't want to have this discussion, but I know we need to talk about it before Scott gets here. "So what are we going to do?"

He gets up and starts pacing around the small room. "First of all, you aren't going to say anything to Baldwin until Diane gets here."

I watch him move; he looks tense and nervous, even edgier than normal. "Okay, then what?"

He stops his pacing next to my bed, crosses his arms in front of chest, and glares at me while he chews on the his bottom lip.

I don't think I'm going to like his answer but I ask anyway. "What?"

He rocks back on his heels and glances down at his boots. He swallows hard and looks up into my eyes like he's just made an important decision. "Well, we are going to do the only thing I can think of, and I'm not sure you're going to like it, Mrs. Hayes."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Did I really hit my head that hard? Or maybe I'm still unconscious, because I swear Logan just implied that we are getting married. I shake my head and, quickly realizing that was a mistake, close my eyes to stop the room from spinning.

When I open them again, Logan's still intently watching me.

I swallow and try to keep my voice steady. "I'm not sure I heard you right."

He uncrosses his arms and jams his hands into faded jean pockets, his lips twist into a rather smug grin. "Oh, no, you heard me, sweetheart."

My eyes lock with his, and I feel the fury start to build inside. Who the hell does he think he is? There is no way I'm marrying him. It would be emotional suicide.

"You're crazy. I am not marrying you." My pulse is racing as he walks towards me, but I continue anyway; his bravado doesn't intimidate me. "Just because we slept together one night doesn't give you any right to make decisions for me."

Placing one hand on the bedrail and the other above my shoulder, he leans in, whispering, "Well, unless you want me to go to prison, I don't think you have much of a choice."

He presses his lips to mine silencing me before I can argue back. Does he think I will just acquiesce to his demands? I shove him back, gasping at the pain that shoots through my ribcage and interrupts my thoughts.

His eyes go wide at my cry as he tries to coach me to breathe. A tear rolls down my cheeks as he hushes me and smoothes my hair, too afraid to touch me anywhere else.

"Shhh," He looks worriedly at me as he fumbles for the nurse's call button. "We can fight about this later."

I'd argue with him if I could, but right now I can't even catch my breath. When the nurse comes in, he steps away from the bed, pushing his hand through his hair. He paces the small room while she attends to me, and when she leaves, she promises to come back with something for my headache.

All I want is to be alone with my pain and my thoughts. "Just go home Logan. I need to think."

"I'm not leaving. Did you forget about that other gunman out there?"

"He wasn't after me, he was after you." I look away from him only to turn back when I hear the sound of Carly's voice.

It never fails to amaze me how her presence can fill an entire room. "I told you he was trouble." She says in her best I-told-you-so voice.

Glancing between us she shakes her head and I can tell that she is annoyed. Holding the door open she motions towards the hallway with her handbag. "I need to talk to Lulu, alone. Get out."

Anger flashes across Logan's face at her easy dismissal of him, his jaw tenses and he looks back at me. "We'll finish this conversation later."

"There is nothing to finish. I already gave you my answer." I cross my arms in front of me and dare him to argue with Carly standing right there.

He catches my challenge and just smirks back at me. "We'll see Lulu, we'll see," he says, and walks towards the door. As he gets closer to Carly, she dangles a set of keys on a silver chain in front of him. He takes them, and the exchange raises warning flags in my head. She speaks in a voice barely audible but I can still make it out. "I think you're going to need these; Sonny is waiting for you in his office. I wouldn't keep him waiting if I were you."

"Thanks," he mutters and leaves, letting the door click shut behind him.

Carly strides across the room, pretending like nothing just transpired between them. She places her handbag on my tray table, and settles into the chair Logan has spent the past few nights sleeping in. "You know I warned you stay away from him."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, "Carly, I appreciate your concern, but my head really hurts, and I'm too tired to do this right now."

"Well, did you at least knock some sense into yourself? God, Lulu, why did you involved with Logan Hayes? Better yet, what are you going to do now?" she asks.

"What do you mean?" I question, opening one eye and wondering how much she already knows.

Her bottom jaw shifts to the right and a scowl crosses her face. She takes a deep breath before she continues. "You know what I'm talking about. Are you going to agree to marry his sorry ass, or are you going to let Scott send him to Pentonville?"

I look away and chuckle in disbelief, "Did Sonny call you?"

"Yes. He thought that maybe you might need someone to talk to since your father, as usual, is nowhere to be found."

I slap my hands down to my blanket covered lap and stare at her in disbelief, "I can't believe this."

She seems to be a little flustered but continues anyway. "Don't get all pissed off at me Lulu, I'm just here to help."

I look away from her wishing that I didn't have to be having this conversation right now especially since I haven't even had time to process the situation myself. "Are you here to talk me in or out of this?"

"I'm just here to be the voice of experience. This is a big decision to make, life altering."

"Yeah I know. And I haven't even had time to figure it out yet." I mutter as flop my head back on the pillow.

She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Well, I'm going to ask you one very important question, and you need to answer it honestly. Do you care about him enough to go through with this? Because if you can't say yes right now then you need to walk away." The intensity of her gaze is unnerving, and I have to look away, wishing that I could just get up and run away from this conversation.

I artfully attempt to dodge the question, hoping that she won't notice. "Carly, there has to be another way around this. I just haven't figured it out yet. But hypothetically speaking, if I did marry Logan, it's not like it would be forever. Just until this whole mess is straightened out."

She laughs, and it irks me. "You think that you can just go on with your happy life like it never happened afterwards? Lulu, open your eyes. Logan has been working for Sonny for over a year, and Sonny trusts him. He's not just an errand boy anymore, and that makes him and anyone affiliated with him a target." She pauses, "Oh, and don't think I don't realize that you are avoiding answering my question."

I bury my face in my hands, pressing my fingers into my temples. "I don't know how I feel. We've gotten really close over the past few months, and I trust him. But it's not like I'm ready to honestly get married. This would just be to keep him out of jail."

"Like the last time I married Sonny? Do you remember how that ended up? I almost lost Jax in the process. God, I can see so much of myself in you that it's scary." Carly shakes her head and stares at me. Her grey eyes search mine. "I've been where you are, and I want you to understand what you will be getting into. Once you make this decision, there is no going back. Married or divorced, you will always be tied to this business. Can you handle that? Can you handle that you and the people you love will always be in danger? They will always think that they can get to Logan through you."

"I think you are making this into a bigger deal than it is," I insist, wishing she would just drop this.

"You've already been caught in the crossfire once, and this won't be the last time. You can guarantee that he will be hurt, it's inevitable. He will lie and keep things from you, and you will just have to accept that there is a part of him that you will know nothing about."

"Carly you sound like I have already made up my mind. That this is a done deal, but I don't know what I am going to do."

She huffs and continues in an all-knowing voice that grates on my nerves, "Oh, my dear Lulu who do you think you're kidding? We both know you'll end up marrying Logan; it's what a woman does for the man she loves."

I gawk and laugh at her in disbelief. "Love? Who said anything about love?"

She smiles as she continues. "You keep telling yourself that, Lulu, and maybe someday you might actually believe it." She slips her handbag off the table and tucks it under her arm. "I have to go. They need me at the hotel, but I wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay first. Just promise me you'll think about what we talked about." And with those parting words she sweeps out of the room, letting the voices in my head scream the warnings that I know I won't heed.

My room is finally quiet except for the soft comforting hum of the lighting, maybe now I can figure out what to do. My gaze drops to my lap and I finger the hospital ID bracelet that loosely hangs from my right wrist. It reads: Spencer, Lesley Lu and before I can even stop it my imagination morphs the last name to Hayes. I chew the inside of my cheek and roll the sound of it around in my head until a small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

What am I supposed to now? I don't want to marry Logan, at least not right now and definitely not under these circumstances. I am being torn apart inside by my heart and my head. Rationally I know it makes sense but deep down I know that Carly is right; I am falling in love with him and it scares the shit out of me. Especially since I don't even know how he feels about me. God, it was less then 72 hours ago when I was finally able to forgive myself enough to sleep with him and now I'm supposed to just marry him?

I know that Logan probably sees this as a way to fix a lot of problems, that us getting married is the logical step to legally keep him out of jail. It's times like these that I see shades of my father in him.

Parts of my conversation with Carly replay in my head. '_Hypothetically speaking, if I did marry Logan, it's not like it would be forever. Just until this whole mess is straightened out.'_

I shake my head not even believing the words that came out of my own mouth. Even in my jaded little world I believe that a marriage is supposed to be forever. It is supposed to be a big deal, where two people that are in love are bound forever by God.

Could I walk away once the charges against Logan are dropped, would I want to?

Logan was raised in a broken home, by a mother that didn't want him and a father that wasn't there. He wasn't exposed to the epic kind of love that my parents had. I don't know if I can separate the emotional side of it from the legal end. I never thought it would be something that I would ever have to consider.

However the problem remains that if I say no, the alternative is going to suck even more. I can't let the man that I'm falling in love with go to prison. It would be selfish of me to not help him just to keep this fairy tale idea of what a marriage should be alive. Not everything can go according to plan.

Taking a deep breath I fight the butterflies that's swarm my stomach as I make a decision and accept the fact that someday soon, for better or for worse, I am going to become Mrs. Lesley Lu Hayes.


	8. Chapter 8

_The courtroom lights reflect off the extravagant band that Logan slips on my finger. Its princess-cut diamonds glitter and sparkle like the reflections of the afternoon sun on a cresting wave. He seems nervous and awkward standing there in front of me; his panic is evident in the paleness of his face. Tightening the hold on my hand, I feel his palms damp with sweat press harder against mine. I watch him with wide eyes and ignore the little voice in my head that screams that this is a mistake._

Why is he so nervous? Why did he buy me such an expensive ring when a simple band would have done? Why does his breath tremble as he repeats the words that the judge murmurs? As every minute passes, I am finding it harder and harder to believe that marrying me is just a convenient way to keep him out of jail. In a blink of an eye, it's over, and he presses his lips against mine sealing our fate with a kiss.

Together we push open the doors of the courtroom, and as we step out, my bare feet sink into cold wet sand. The cold, stark courthouse fades from vision, and now sunshine warms my face. We walk along the beach, holding hands and laughing as the cold water splashes the cuffs of my rolled up jeans. Logan whistles, and the golden retriever that had been frolicking in the surf bounds over to us. I pet his wet head as he barks and dances around us.

An unfamiliar click resonates over the sound of the crashing waves and the barking dog. Then a slow squeak echoes, and the image of the beach blurs until only a washed out light remains. I close my eyes tight against the brightness, and when I reopen them I am far from the beach and back in my hospital room. The door is now open, and the hallway light spills across the foot of my bed. A figure looms in the doorway, and even though his face is cast in shadows, I know without a doubt that it is Logan.

I'm groggy and want nothing more than to close my eyes and drift back into the dream before I can't recapture it. He moves quickly towards me, and his urgency forces me to wake. I try to ask what is going on, but he only shushes me.

"I have to get you out of here," he murmurs as he tugs the blankets loose from the bed, gathering them around me.

"Why?" I whisper, wondering what's wrong.

He pauses, looking me with serious eyes, and his normally don't-give-a-f attitude is punctuated with an intensity that I have never seen from him before. "When doctors start wearing shoulder holsters with guns instead of stethoscopes, it's time to discharge you." He breaks eyes contact and starts to scoop his hand under my knees but stops when a shadow suddenly blocks the light from the window. Logan slips back towards the shadows in the corner of the room and waits.

The door squeaks again, and I close my eyes, feigning sleep. The hard soles of the man's shoes thwack on the linoleum, each step making my heart pound harder. Even in the darkness of my mind, I can feel his bulky form loom over the foot of my bed until I hear a yelp and the scuffling and dragging of feet.

In the far, dimly lit corner, Logan has the man in a choke hold, his bracing hand covers his mouth. I watch for two horrifying minutes until the man's eyes flutter shut and he slumps against Logan, crumpling unconsciously to the floor.

Logan steps over the man and wraps the loose blankets around my legs. "Come on, he won't be out for long." 

Looking around the room, I visually search for my things, "I don't know where my clothes are."

"It's okay, we don't have time. Just hold on to me," he explains as he carefully scoops me up, blankets and all, and quickly heads towards the door. I wince in pain and bite my lip as his long strides jostle me in his arms, aggravating the ribs that were just starting to heal.

The hallway is quiet, and the nurse's station is eerily empty for a Saturday night at GH. He tilts me in his arms so he can jab the elevator call button and murmurs apologies against my hair when he sees the tears trickling down my cheeks. His face is lined with concern, and I try to hide the pain. "I'm trying to be careful, I'm sorry," he says, holding me closer against his chest.

"I know, just get us out of here," I reply, holding on tighter to his neck as the elevator doors slide open and I hear loud footsteps hurrying down the hall behind us.

We are silent inside the elevator, and I watch the numbers count down until we finally reach the ground floor. The doors slip open, and I curl myself as tight as I can into his body, trying to hide myself behind his frame. He silently slides down a side hallway expertly taking lefts and rights until he reaches an emergency exit and looks over his shoulder. He spins pushes it open with his back and steps in into the dimly lit staircase, he crouches a little and his shoulders hunch protectively over me as we hug the wall and listen. 

Loud footsteps slap on the metal stairs above us echoing throughout the narrow space. Logan swears and in three long strides covers the distance from where he was standing to the exterior door, and slams my hip into the crash bar to open it. The door swings open and the emergency exit alarm sounds, flooding the hallway with noise. Voices holler at us from above and I hold on tighter around his neck, burying my face into his neck and silently praying to god to get both of us out of this in one piece.

Logan steps out into the brisk fall night and makes a beeline for a black town car parked in the fire lane of the side street. As we approach, Milo steps out of the car and opens the back door for us as we hustle towards him. I watch as Milo runs by us back towards the hospital catching the heavy steel door before it slams shut. He cracks it opens and fires a few random shots into the staircase, buying us some time as Logan contemplates how to get me in the backseat without putting me down. 

He tips me backwards sending me head first into the backseat, the sudden motion scares me and I grip onto him tighter which only helped in throwing him off balance. My ass bounces on the cold leather seat as his head thunks of the side of the car's roofline. I cringe until I hear a string of curse words punctuate the relative silence of the night.

My legs are still draped over his right arm and he lifts my legs higher slipping in under me into the car. He tucks my feet into the car and Milo closes the door behind him. Max peels out of the parking lot while Logan pulls me back into his lap, wrapping the blankets tighter around me. I look out the back window as we pull away watching three men rush out of the hospital stopping to watch us pull away. One of them raises his arm and I cower as three shots ricochet off the bulletproof glass.

Logan looks at me and I swallow hard trying to even my breaths, I let my fingers lightly graze over the knot forming on the side of his head; my voice shakes as I tell him that I'm sorry.

"Is this okay?" he asks, shifting me some more. "Am I hurting you?"

I shake my head, letting it finally settle it into the crook of his neck; I breathe in his scent and am too tired from the simple ordeal of being carried out of the hospital to even ask questions. I'm not sure if it is the safety and contentment I feel being in his arms or the lulling sound of the tires against the smooth pavement, but a familiar darkness overtakes me, and all I can do is dream.

The sound of voices whispering around me wakes me up. "You got her, Milo?"

"Hold on," he whispers, and a larger unfamiliar set of arms slip under my knees and around my back. "Yeah, I got her."

A small whine escapes my lips as I feel myself being lifted and pulled from Logan's warm lap into Milo's capable arms. "Be careful," Logan urges.

I open my eyes and automatically wrap my arms around Milo's neck, looking back to see Logan climb out of the car. I breathe in the crisp night air, feeling like I haven't been free in months. Looking around, I try to figure out where I am, but in the darkness the alley is like millions of other alleys, nondescript and eerie.

Logan trails behind us, checking over his shoulder as we round the corner and step onto the sidewalk. I look up and realize that we are in front of the building that houses Jason's penthouse, and I let out a sigh of relief that we are at least still in Port Charles. When we reach the front door, Milo awkwardly attempts to hand me back to Logan. The blanket wrapped around my legs slips and falls on the sidewalk between us during the handoff, and I scramble to lock my arms around Logan's neck to keep from falling with it. He gathers me up into his arms, bouncing me a little to get a better grip. My bruised ribs land against his arm that supports my back, and it knocks the air right out of me.

I cry out and crumple into him, struggling to catch my breath. He waits a few minutes as Milo guiltily fumbles the keys into the lock. I try to relax and focus on the heat of Logan's body seeping into me through the thin hospital gown, hoping that my ass isn't completely visible to everyone.

"Don't get used to this, Spencer. I'm not going to carry you around for the rest of my life, that's not in the vows," he jokes, trying to break the tension of the evening.

His smartass comment shakes away a few nerves and I shoot back, "Well, since we aren't getting married, I guess you have nothing to worry about."

He intentionally bounces again in his arms, but I'm ready for him this time. "We'll see, Spencer, we'll see."

I glare at him, grit my teeth, and elbow him in the chest. "You can put me down now."

"You sure about that? Did you forget that you're barefoot with only have hospital gown on? Not that I would mind having a front row seat for the peep show of your adorable backside, but you might embarrass Milo here." He chuckles as he waits in the lobby for the elevator doors to slide open.

I glance at Milo who has taken his post at the door. His face blushes, and he averts my eyes. A scowl crosses my face. "You'd like that wouldn't you, you jerk?"

"I love how such endearing nicknames for your future husband just flow from your lips. They make me melt and feel all gushy inside."

He steps out into the hallway on the top floor, but surprises me when he carefully sets me down in front of a door across from Jason's. I clutch the back of my nightgown closed pulling it around me. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, a brief smile lifting the corners of his mouth. He jams his hands into his jean pockets, pulling out a set of keys that look similar to ones that Carly had given him earlier in the evening.

"Where are we?" I ask as he slips the key in turning the lock.

He pushes the door open ahead of me, ushering me inside. "Home sweet home."


	9. Chapter 9

My bare feet dance a little on the cold tiled hallway, and I snatch the hospital blanket that had fallen earlier from Logan's shoulders and wrap it back around my mine. He twists the doorknob and leans his shoulder into the door, giving it a little shove open. I clutch the worn fabric tighter around me and shuffle across the threshold into the darkened penthouse. A wave of heat washes over my face, and Logan flips the light switch; the overhead lamps ignite, bathing the room in a warm welcoming softness. I quickly give the place the once over while he closes the door and slips the security lock into place. He struggles out of his jacket and tosses it with the keys onto a small desk by the door.

The penthouse is inviting and comfortably furnished with warm tan walls and various artwork strategically placed to make your eyes travel throughout the entire room. Chenille pillows scatter the furniture in complimentary colors, and a thick patterned throw rug stands out in the middle of the living room. A thick glass coffee table with multiple tiered candles is centered amongst plush earth-toned couches and chairs. The furniture looks comfortable and lived in with a promise that if you sit on it will envelop you in a warm comforting embrace after a long day of work. A large stone fireplace dominates the opposite wall, its mantle still full of holiday decorations and frames filled with familiar pictures. I had seen this backdrop before in pictures that Carly had sent me of Michael and Morgan opening presents at Christmas.

I trail my fingers over a soft burgundy blanket that lies across the arm of an oversized chair, and the missing pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place. "This is Carly and Sonny's old place."

"Yeah, the building has guards and a lot more security than my apartment does," he answers as I swallow hard watching him pull a gun from the small of his back, click on the safety, and set it down on the coffee table. He continues, oblivious to my gaze, "When it was just me, I wasn't too worried about it, but now that you are involved in this mess I need to make sure that you are safe. Bringing you here was actually Carly's idea."

My earlier annoyance at him fades when I hear the genuine concern in his voice, and I wander around the room, trying to put some space in between us. The past few days have been such a roller coaster of emotions that I still haven't been able to process it all. I skim my fingers over the marble mantle and continue, "I've never actually been here before, I had only seen pictures that Carly had sent me of the boys. When I moved back to Port Charles, they had already split up."

Logan shadows my movements, and I can feel the heat of his body behind mine. He pulls free the elastic band that had been holding my hair back, and I turn towards him, asking the one question I pray he knows the answer to. "Logan, what's really going on? Who were those men at the hospital?"

He pulls me into his arms, resting his head on top of mine. "I don't know, Lulu, but I don't want you to worry about it. I'll keep you safe while Sonny and Jason get to the bottom of it."

I lift my head off his chest and look up into his worried green eyes, wishing I could believe what he is promising. "And what are we supposed to do in the meantime?"

Leaning back, he tucks an unruly strand of hair behind my ear and kisses my forehead. "All we can do is sit tight and wait. Look, it's two in the morning, and you look exhausted. Do you want me to help you upstairs? Carly stopped over at the Quartermaines' earlier and packed a few bags for you, your stuff is up in the master."

I pull away from him, dubiously eyeing the staircase that is obscured on the other side of the room. "No, I can make it on my own."

He looks disappointed at my refusal for help but pulls his cell phone from his pocket. "Okay, I've got a few phone calls to make anyway, but just yell if you need me."

"Okay." I whisper, pulling at the blanket that trails behind me on the floor and slowly making my way up the stairs. I pause halfway up and look back at Logan as he checks his watch and flips open his phone. He presses a few buttons, collapses back on the couch, and leans back, staring at the ceiling.

"Tell me something I want to hear," he says into the phone with an impatience that I am way too familiar with. He pauses, swears, and, flipping the phone closed again, slams it into the seat cushion next to him.

I say nothing but continue silently up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to open my eyes to find out this whole night has been nothing but a nightmare.

The master bathroom is as large as my bedroom at the Quartermaines'. It's slick and luxuriously encased in black granite with brushed nickel fixtures. A soft throw rug of Egyptian cotton is centered in the room, and a pyramid of thick rolled towels guards the entrance to the glass walled shower.

This has got to be the most impressive bathroom I have ever seen, something right out of a magazine, and I'm not sure how Carly could have given this up. I weigh the pros and cons of the shower versus the Jacuzzi tub that is nestled in the corner but finally settle on the shower with its rain-like shower heads mounted in the ceiling.

Flipping the water on, I let it run to warm up while I drop the blanket to the floor and slip out of the thin hospital gown. My gaze is automatically drawn to my reflection in the mirror, and I am disgusted by the mottled purple and black-colored bruises that smear the pale skin of my ribcage. I watch until the steam blurs my image and then step into the hot shower, audibly moaning as a tingling sensation of heat races down from my head to my toes.

Warm water streams down my bare skin, washing away the days of memories and aching muscles. I close my eyes and let the water rhythmically massage my back until I'm too tired to stand any longer. Clutching the shampoo and conditioner bottles to my chest, I sit down on the warm wet tile, letting the water puddle around me. A sharp pain sears through my left side as I try to massage the shampoo through my tangled hair. The pain becomes too intense, and I give up and rest my forehead on my knees. letting the water wash away the apple scented product while tears trickle down my cheek.

His voice is muffled by the sound of the water as it bounces off the tiles. "Lulu, are you okay?"

Turning at the sound and cringing, I see him push the bathroom door open a little and peer around the corner. "Lulu?"

I can only imagine what he thinks when he sees a soaking wet heap huddled on the floor, half obscured by the steamed glass.

Before I can even open my mouth to tell him I'm okay, the shower door flies opens, and his voice is edged in panic. "What's wrong?"

Unlike him, I'm embarrassed and feel uncomfortable by my nakedness, and I wrap my arms tighter around myself. "Do you mind?" I snap and look away.

Smirking at me, his voice relaxes a little, and he leans against the door frame. "Lulu, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

It dawns on me that we haven't even been able to talk about what happened a few nights ago; I'm not even sure where I stand with him anymore. "Then stop staring at me," I sputter.

I flick water at him, and he steps back, reaching for a towel to wipe off his face. "I'm sorry; you've just been in here a long time." He wads up the damp towel and tosses it on the bathroom vanity. "Sue me for worrying about you. I'll just leave you alone."

He lets the shower door thump close, and I rest my chin back on my knees, debating whether or not I should tell him as his form retreats back to the bedroom. "Logan?" I ask, then continue, "I can't stretch back to wash my hair."

His blurred image stops, and as he turns back towards me, the tone of his voice changes from the annoyed jerk to a concerned drawl. "Do you want me to help you?"

I swallow the Spencer pride that wells up inside me, wishing I didn't need him, but concede my independence to the overwhelming desire to feel clean. "Yes."

Steam billows out of the shower as he re-opens the door. "All you had to do was ask."

He looks down at his shirt and slowly undoes each snap, but when he reaches the last one his green eyes dart up to catch me watching him. He shrugs his shoulders, flexing a little, and lets the grey and white plaid fabric tumble to a heap on the bathroom floor. He raises his head, watching me appreciate his defined chest and sculpted abs. My eyes dart to his waistband as the cocky son of a bitch makes a show of flicking open his button fly and pushing his jeans down over lean toned thighs. He is a perfect image of masculinity and of sexual prowess, and I sit here simply broken and at his mercy.

I shake my head but am unable to move away as he steps into the shower. "What are you doing?"

He stands under the showerhead, hovering over me. I watch as drops of water run in rivulets off his tanned taut muscles and onto me. He's quiet as he rubs his face under the spray. Letting out a sigh, he steps back, wipes water out of his eyes, and sits down on the tile behind me. "You said you needed help."

He scoots in behind me, his legs on either side of mine, and the heat from his body sends ripples though me. I look back over my shoulder at him. "I didn't mean for you to get in here with me."

"Why not? It will be easier this way," he murmurs, kissing my shoulder and reaching between us for the bottle of shampoo by my hip.

He rubs shampoo into my hair with an awkward tenderness that makes me smile. He lathers and rinses, only occasionally catching his fingers in the tangles, and he curses as I try not to complain. The water pours over us; I feel safe and taken care of, and it causes a scary tightness in my chest. He twists and wrings out the excess water from my long hair and tucks errant strands behind my shoulder.

His hands linger on my back. Careful fingertips brush over the angry bruise on my shoulder blade I had seen earlier. I hear his breath come in an uneven rhythm, and without even looking at him, I can picture his eyes hardening and his jaw clenching at seeing the result of the incident outside of his apartment.

I wish I could hide the bruises and the cuts; I hadn't wanted him to feel guilty for what had happened. If it wasn't for him, I could have been dead right now instead of sitting here with him. I twist a little and turn back to him. "Thank you."

His eyes are pained, and I see the regret creased into his face as he skims a cut on my upper arm. "How can you thank me? Look what happened to you. This is my fault, and I'm so sorry, Lulu."

I touch the side of his face, letting my thumb brush over his cheekbone, trying to sooth away the lines that formed there. "You didn't hurt me, you saved me."

He pulls me against him, and my face presses into the side of his neck. "I won't let anyone hurt you again, I swear."

We sit there for a little while, our wet bodies clinging together while the warm water rains down on us. For a few minutes, I forget about the outside world and let myself get lost in the swirling steam of the shower and the beat of his heart.

He clears his throat and lets me go as I turn away from him; he grabs the bar of soap from the soap dish. Crossing his arms in front of me, he traps me against him and flips the bar from hand to hand. I watch soap bubbles form and slip between his long strong fingers and drip onto my legs, making me remember the way his touch made my body feel so alive a few nights ago. He starts at my feet, and his soapy, calloused hands trace imaginary trails from my ankles to the inside of my knees then across my thighs to my hips. He nuzzles my ear and murmurs my name as I lean back against his chest and close my eyes.

I straighten my legs, and his fingers splay and skim up over my ribs and cup my breasts. His fingers swirl around my nipples, occasionally brushing over the peaks. Between the steady rhythm of the shower and the way he teases me, my breaths come quicker and my pulse races . One hand travels up higher, gliding across my throat until his thumb sweeps across the cleft of my chin. I hear the bubbles pop and crackle, and it tingles as the suds slip down my skin, making it seem like he is touching me everywhere at one time.

I press harder against him as the traveling hand heads south to the apex of my thighs. I stiffen when I feel his hardness against my lower back and sit up straight, thrust back into reality. "Logan, we can't."

He looks at me with his wary, soulful eyes, and then looks away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you the other night. "

My heart aches for him and I press the palm of my hand against his cheek, turning his face back towards mine. "No, that's not it. I'm just out of sync with my pills, between the hospital and …" He silences me by pressing a single finger to my lips, understanding that I do want to be with him, but my reluctance is only not wanting to rely strictly on condoms for birth control.

He lets out the breath he had been holding and rests his forehead against mine. "You had me worried. Lulu, I don't have to have sex with you to show you how I feel." He stands up, pulling me with him. His hands glide up and down my body as he rinses the soap off and reaches around me to turn off the water.

He steps out of the shower and grabs a rolled up towel, securing it low around his waist. The cooler bathroom air creeps into the shower area, causing goose bumps to pop on my arms. He holds out a cream-colored towel, and I step into him and the warm fabric. "Come on, let's get you dry."


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks for all the feedback, sorry it has taken so long to update…I had forgotten that I had left it unfinished this Board. If you can't wait to read more please visit my message board for the continuation of this story and other fan fiction.

**Chapter 10**

After being thoroughly patted dry in the bathroom I follow Logan back into the master suite and wonder if he plans on staying here or in the spare room down the hall. I am surprised to find that the lamp on the nightstand has been switched off, and now the only light in the room is from the glow of a fire that pops and crackles in the hearth. I unzip my bag on the bed and instinctively pull out a clean tank top and pair of shorts to put on, but pause when I look over at him.

The towel is wrapped low around his hips, and the firelight reflects off the few drops of water that still clings to his shoulder blades. I watch inquisitively as Logan shoves his dirty clothes into an army green duffle bag that's leaning against the chair. He pulls the drawstring closed and without taking anything out of it, sends it over the back of the chair where it lands with a resounding thump on the floor.

Seemingly unaffected by his lack of clothing he settles himself into the midnight blue velour chair that is placed on an angle in front of the fire. I am mesmerized by sculpted muscles that ripple beneath fire lighted skin, and ache to trail my fingers across the bright peaks and shadowed valleys of his chest. Unaware of my gaze he crosses his bare feet on the foot rest and lets his arms drape over the padded armrests.

He picks up the crystal on-the-rocks glass off the mahogany table next to him and sips the amber liquid that I am sure is from Sonny's private stock. He winces at the first swallow then closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh as his body seems to finally give in to the strain of the past few days.

I search my bag for a comb or a brush and curse since I can't seem to find either. Looking up I find him watching me, and when he speaks his voice seems to have dropped an octave or two. "I hope you don't mind that I lit the fire. I never had a fireplace inside of a house; never mind inside of a bedroom. When I grew up we only had a pit in the backyard."

The sexy tone of his voice makes my stomach flutter, and I struggle to keep mine at its normal pitch. "I don't mind, it took the chill out of the room plus I find it relaxing to watch a fire burn."

The crystal tumbler dangles precariously between his strong fingers and with a flick of his wrist he blindly sends the liquid swirling around the ice. The ice cubes jingle against the glass and I swallow hard as I remember the strength of his fingers as they had gripped my hips a few nights ago.

I check the outside pockets of my bag and find the brush that Carly had tucked inside, and start my attempt to comb out the knots in my hair. I lift my arm up and grimace with the first tug of the brush and grit my teeth at the burning pain that zings my ribcage.

I let out shaky breath and he sits back patting the footrest in front of him. "Come here and sit down before you hurt yourself."

I check the security of my tucked in towel, and take a seat in front of him resigning myself to the fact that I need help. His fingertips brush my bare shoulders as he smoothes wet hair against my back. A chill races up my spine while goose bumps spread across my arms, and I'm not sure if it's from the coldness of my hair or the lingering feel of his touch.

He makes quick work of the tangles as the fire warms the bare skin that my towel doesn't over. I turn my head slightly to watch him over my shoulder as he places kisses along the spot where my shoulder meets my neck. His breath tickles me as he murmurs, "You look beautiful in the firelight."

I smile and lean back against him letting him lift me onto his lap. I tuck my knees up against the arm of the chair and curl up against him resting my head against his bare chest. We sit there together, his arms wrapped around me while we watch the flames consume the logs. The wood pops and crackles in the heat, and I fight the urge to close my eyes.

My gaze shifts from the fire to the man beneath me, he is never this quiet, and I wonder what he is thinking. His hand mindlessly strokes my towel covered thigh as he stares into the fire. I trail my fingertips lightly over the outline of the tattoo as I ask, "A penny for your thoughts?"

"Hmm?" he replies as he presses a kiss into my drying hair. "What did you say Spencer?"

I concentrate on the smoothness of his skin under my fingertips as they move from his shoulder to his chest swirling in invisible circles, "I asked what you were thinking, you seem miles away tonight."

He sighs and captures my hand with his watching the way his thumb moves over my knuckles. "Just thinking about the past few days, that's all."

"Planning what we are going to do next?" I muse.

"No." he answers looking into my eyes. "About us … and the other night at the apartment."

"Oh?" I tense and sit up straighter putting a little bit of distance between us.

His fingertips brush my cheek as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "Are we okay?"

His question surprises me, and I search his face for the reason behind it.  
"Why wouldn't we be?"

He is slow to answer me, and I feel a familiar panic start to tighten around my throat. "I don't know, things got so crazy afterwards and I never got to see if you were okay with what happened."

I look down into my lap and fumble with the edge of my towel between my fingertips. "Logan, you've lost me."

His index finger lifts my face up towards his as he continues, "Lulu, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I know how big of a step it was for you. I understand what it meant and I feel like a jerk because I never got the chance to tell you how I felt. "

I swallow hard as I wait for him to continue, it's been so easy to focus all of my attention on all the other scary shit that has been going on since we spent that night together. But now that the outside world is safely blocked out by body guards and bullet proof glass, the only thing left to be afraid of is what is happening between us.

I look deep into his eyes and see the truth before the words even leave his lips. "I love you Lulu Spencer."


	11. Chapter 11

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**Chapter 11**

I clutch the blankets a little closer to my chest, and watch the bedroom become darker as the glow from the fire slowly fades into blackness. Logan blissfully murmurs soundly asleep behind me and his breath tickles my shoulder blade. His right arm drapes across my waist and securely holds me against him as his strong body molds against mine. The sound of his breathing and the occasional rustle of blankets are the only noises that interrupt the silence of the room but I barely hear them over the roar of questions in my mind. I am still shell-shocked by his earlier confession and even though I am exhausted I haven't been able to fall asleep.

I close my eyes, take a deep cleansing breath and try to ignore the nagging pain that throbs around my rib cage. My left thumb brushes over the new band encircling my ring finger while his words echo in my head. I knew what he was going to say before they even tumbled from his lips.

_'I love you Lulu Spencer.' he whispered and pressed his lips against mine._

The kiss deepened and a little voice in my head squealed in delight as my heart beat double time. Then the panic and questions started to set in, did I hear him right? Did he actually just say that he loved me? All of a sudden I felt like I couldn't breathe and tried to pull away. He captured my face between the palms of his hands and silently calmed me with the simple stroke of his thumb across my cheek bone and the understanding in his eyes.

Sighing I rested my forehead against his, god this was happening way too fast. If someone had told me yesterday morning he was going to say these words to me today I would have laughed my ass off at them. Hadn't it only been earlier tonight, in the quietness of that hospital room that I had finally accepted the facts that I do love Logan Hayes and that despite all that has happened I am worthy of being loved?

He deserved to know but when I tried to tell him, he silenced me by pressing his index finger softly to my lips and kissing me on the tip of my nose.

He shifted me from his lap to the foot rest and continued, 'Before you say anything I have something for you.'

He stood up, adjusted his towel and retrieved his duffle bag from behind the chair. I remember curiously watching him as he kneeled down on the floor next to me and worked the knot loose. His brow furrowed as he searched for something amongst his rumpled possessions.

Shirts and pants were pulled out and tossed aside as he continued digging for something. The whole thing seemed odd and he cursed under his breath until he finally withdrew a fisted hand in success. He looked up at me and his eyes seemed to nervously scan my face, I watched as he wet his lips and swallowed hard.

'I bought this for you.' He said turning his palm up towards me while uncurling his fingers. The mystery revealed itself as the firelight twinkled and gleamed off a diamond ring that rested in the palm of his faintly trembling hand.

'I know that this probably isn't the kind of proposal you dreamt about growing up, but Lulu I do love you. And I understand that you are agreed to marry me because of Scott but I hope that isn't the only reason.'

'Logan..' I started to say but he squeezed my hands and stopped me.

'Lulu, please just let me finish.' He pleaded and I nodded my head letting him continue.

'I know this is happening fast but I don't want this to just be a marriage of convenience. I want to try to make this work but only if you want to.'

I felt a tear trickle down my cheek and I squeezed his hands in agreement.

'Lesley Lu Spencer, will you marry me?'  
The memory of him slipping the ring over my finger after I nodded my acceptance whirls in my head, and I unconsciously twist the diamond engagement ring around my finger. It was a little big, but maybe after a few years I would grow into it.

_Oh my god, a few years? I must be nuts. _

In just a few hours a justice of the peace will be standing in front of the fireplace downstairs and I will swear before God to love, honor and cherish the man lying next to me. I try and silence the voices and close my eyes begging for sleep, tomorrow is my wedding day after all…and I don't even think I have anything white to wear.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Sunlight streams in between a crack in the curtains; the warmth and brightness of it prodding me awake until like an obstinate child I finally roll over. Squinting against the attack from nature I pull the covers over my head and curl up into the fetal position effectively pushing away the new day. My hand skims over the cool sheets next to me seeking out the man that had held me all night long, but all I find is the empty spot that he once occupied.

My eyes adjust to the dusky light that glows through the sheet and my stomach growls its protest for food. I resign myself to the fact that I need to get up and I stretch to inventory my body for any new aches and pains. I let out a groan even though my shoulder and rib cage feel much better today and I should be happy about that since it's a vast improvement over last night.

I clutch Logan's pillow closer to my body, close my eyes once again and inhale the lingering scent of him. I uncurl my hand when the prongs of my engagement ring bite into the palm of my hand, and I adjust it to sit back on the top side of my ring finger. This whole situation still feels unreal and I can't believe that today is actually going to be the big day.

Butterflies start to flutter in my stomach at the reminder and I throw off the blankets, resolving myself to be ready for whatever the day has in store.

My bare feet sink into the plush carpet, and I spot a garment bag lying across the chair that Logan had been sitting in the night before. The bag is black leather and embossed with the logo of the Metro Court boutique, attached to it is an envelope with my name scrawled in Carly's familiar handwriting. I open it and let the cool linen paper slide between my fingers as it reads.

_Just encase this is your one and only… Carly_

Folding the note again I carry the bag into the bathroom hanging it on the edge of the door, and the room is quiet except for the chatter sound of the opening zipper. Pulling the dress out I twist it around admiring the beautiful white organza that dangles from the hanger. It is strapless and knee length with a moss green sash accentuating the waist. The style is simple but elegant and I smile since it is something that I probably would have picked out for myself.

My stomach rumbles again and I pull my robe on while searching for slippers to go find food. I find Milo in the kitchen stirring sugar into his mug of coffee, he smiles and looks over at me. "How are you feeling today?"

I tighten the belt on my robe a little and make my way to the coffee pot. "A lot better, thanks. It feels good to be up on my own feet again. Have you seen Logan?"

"Yeah, earlier. He told me to tell you that he wasn't going to chance any more "bad luck" and that he will see you this afternoon at the ceremony." Milo recites to me placing air quotes around the word bad luck.

I can only respond with a small chuckle of agreement as I pour myself a cup of coffee and let out a ragged deep breath. He seems uncomfortable and excuses himself to return to his post at the door, it's either probably due to my state of undress or the little crush he used to have on me back when life was simple.

On my way up the stairs I pause to check the time on the grandfather clock hanging in the living room and swallow hard, in four hours I will become Mrs. Logan Hayes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later I find myself staring at my reflection in the mirror, over analyzing the decision I had made to sweep my hair up into a classic twist. Logan likes my hair down and wild, but somehow it just doesn't seem appropriate for this afternoon. Not for your wedding the little voice in my head agrees.

A soft knocking sound comes from the bedroom door and Carly's voice softly calls out my name from behind the oak paneling. "Can I come in?"

The door slowly creaks open and she peeks in. "Oh Lulu, you look beautiful." She exclaims rushing over to me.

I let out a shaky breath and turn back towards the mirror inspecting the image before me. "Thanks. I just wish the bruise on my shoulder didn't look so bad."

"Let's see if we can cover it up some." She replies reaching for my foundation and bronzer on the countertop. I watch as her fingertips camouflage the worst of it, and she smiles at me in the mirror admiring her handiwork.

I feel the tears well up in my eyes and she consoles me, "It's going to be okay Lulu, I promise." She says as her hands lightly rub up and down my arms in comfort.

"I'm scared Carly, last night Logan told me that he loved me." I confess.

Confusion crosses her face and she seems to search mine for answers. "Is that a bad thing?" she presses.

"Yes…I mean no. It's just…" And I swipe away at a lonely tear that escapes down my cheek. "This isn't how I thought it would be."

"How what would be?" she asks.

"Falling in love. " I answer looking away and fiddle with my engagement ring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I close my eyes and let out a deep breath before I take my first step down the staircase. Logan and Jason are sitting on the couch and Carly is busy talking to the judge. She sees me first and smiles up at me. "Are we ready?"

Logan's head whips up and his gaze locks with mine. I give him a nervous smile and he slowly rises to his feet, buttoning the top button of his black suit jacket and then wiping the palm of his hands on the front of his slacks. I don't think I have ever seen him look so nervous. "Wow, you look amazing."

He crosses the room and meets me at the bottom of the stairs, taking my hands into his. "You okay?" he asks.

"Yes." I reply and take one more calming breath before I continue, "Let's do this."

He brings my hands up to his lips and brushes a soft kiss across my knuckles. "Okay."

The judge starts the civil ceremony and his words buzz in my head. I stare into the depths of Logan's green eyes and he squeezes my hand in assurance when it is my turn to say "I do." Overall the whole thing is a blur except for the part when Logan slipped a platinum band over my finger to match the one he gave me last night.

The realization of what we have just done hits me hard when the judge pronounces us husband and wife. My gasp is masked as Logan's mouth captures mine in a kiss that makes me tingle all the way to my toes. He smiles at me resting his forehead against mine while he cups my cheek in the palm of his hand. "We're going to make this work Lulu, I swear to you."

Jason clears his throat loudly catapulting us out of our moment and back into reality, I step away from him and Jason continues handing us each a pen. "Hate to rush this but we need to sign the license before the judge leaves to make this official."

Officially married…Oh god, and I swallow hard.

The judge points to a line and I sign my life as a Spencer away, it's hard to believe that with one stroke of the pen your whole life as you know it can be changed. It's true the pen really is mightier than the sword, and we aree going to beat Scott Baldwin at his own game.

The ink isn't even dry when the door to the penthouse flies open and a throng of PCPD cops dressed in SWAT gear and guns drawn pour into the living room around us. Milo and Max are shoved into the room by Lucky, their hands already cuffed and a thin trickle of blood flows from the corner of Max's mouth.

"Well well well, what do we have here?" Scott asks as he emerges from behind the crowd. "I'm glad to see I found you before you skipped town."

Jason sneers at him, "What do you want Baldwin?"

"Logan Hayes you are under arrest for the murder of Victor Puglisi." Scott announces, slapping the warrant against Logan's chest. "Sergeant read him his rights."

"But Scott …" I try to explain until Logan shoots me a warning glare and protectively steps in between us.

"Jason call Diane and have her meet me a PCPD." Logan responds holding out his arms in front him.

"Yeah you do that Morgan, but wait I'm not done here yet." Scott smirks and continues, "Lesley Lu Spencer, I also have a warrant for your arrest for obstruction of justice and hindering a police investigation.…." he recites from the formal papers.

Logan interrupts him before he can finish, "Hayes." He corrects and looks back over his shoulder at me and smiles.

"Excuse me?" Scott bristles at him in confusion.

"Lesley Lu Hayes." Logan clarifies and watches as the expression on Scott's face shifts from smugness to anger. He leans towards Scott the amusement clearly evident on his face. "I think you'll need a new warrant for my wife."

I am shocked by the amount of resentment that a father can have for his own son. Logan hadn't been kidding when he said that Scott was on a witch hunt. He glares at me and I step up wrapping my arm around his son's waist and smile sweetly at him. "Hi, dad."

Scott laughs realizing what has transpired. "Well, I guess my invitation got lost in the mail, huh?"

"It was a private ceremony only for immediate family." Logan quips back.

Scott's smile falters, "You think you're so smart. Get him out here." he commands and then turns his attention towards me. "Oh and don't think of leaving town Mrs. Hayes."

The sergeant slaps the handcuffs on Logan and yanks him by the arm toward the door, I call out for him. He turns trying to reassure me as they shove him out the door. "I love you Lulu."

Max and Milo are escorted out and then in a blink of an eye the room is as empty as quickly as it at filled. I push my way into the hallway hearing Logan ask Scott if they can go out the back exit into the alley.

He scoffs, "Why, so Sonny can help you escape? Oh no, we are going right out the front door, after all the media is waiting."

I hear Logan huff and reply, "Always trying to be the in the spotlight huh Dad? Even if you have to throw your own son to the wolves to be in it?"

Scott stares at him quizzically as the elevator pings the announcement of its arrival. As soon as the doors close I make a dash to staircase despite the warning cries of Carly and Jason. I am determined to be there for my husband, to let him know he isn't alone.

I hurry down the stairs as fast as my aching muscles and lungs will allow. Strands of my hair tumble from French twist and stream behind me as tears run down my cheeks. This can't be happening, not today. It isn't fair.

When I reach the lobby I shove the emergency exit door open wide and frantically try to push my way threw the crowd to join my husband. Scott leads the way and opens the front door out of Harborview Towers.

Scott guides Logan out onto the steps with one hand and holds up his other to silence the reporters questions. As I step up alongside Logan a black SUV roars down the road and squeals to a stop behind the crowd. It seems as though the passenger window rolls down in slow motion and the gunshots echo in my head. Logan must have seen it too and he steps in front of me to shield me from the attack, this was the reason he asked Scott to leave by the back alley. I scream and feel my heart being ripped to shreds as Logan falls to the steps in front of me, his blood dotting the front of my white dress. The awkward jerk of his body makes me fully aware that there will be no going back to what used to be. And here I am again; torn between love and the brutal reality of his world. I watch him with tears in my eyes as the whole landscape of my life instantly morphs into something unreal as a single bullet shattered my world.

THE END


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